


The Temporary State Of Alone

by Silent_Noise



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Can you tell?, Connor Murphy has Depression, Drug Use, Evan Hansen Has Anxiety, I really have no idea where this is going, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, So much angst, but also fluff, eventually, i can't tag, references to past suicide attempts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Noise/pseuds/Silent_Noise
Summary: Evan Hansen's life is a mess. His breakdowns are more common than ever, his only friend denies that they know each other, and his broken arm is a testament to his uselessness.But when a sudden burst of rare courage leads to him confronting one Connor Murphy, and a tentative friendship emerges, could things be looking up?
Relationships: Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Yeah, I know that this AU has been done to death, but we'll stop beating this dead horse when it stops spitting out hits and kudos! And I wanted to do my own take on it.  
> Be prepared for the characters to have some large bruises from the OOC StickTM  
> I also have no clue how long this will be, or where exactly the plot is going, but you are all welcome to join me for the ride!  
> I will update this when I have the time (of which I have surprisingly little, considering we are in quarantine).  
> I hope you enjoy!

"Stop fucking laughing at me."  
"I'm not."  
Evan cringed away from Connor as the larger boy advanced on him, practically snarling with every word he spat out.  
"You think I'm a freak?"  
People had begun to notice, and the cafeteria was all but silent now. There was no background chatter to disguise the stutter that the fear had forced onto Evan's lips. "No, I, I don't-"  
"I'm not the freak."  
_Why isn't anybody doing anything?_ The collective student body was either staring over a half-eaten tray of food, or keeping their distance, waiting to get lunch, but no one made a move to help or to intervene.  
Jared had already run, saved himself. Why hadn't he? Why did he have to stick around and draw attention to himself?  
"I didn't-"  
"You're the fucking freak."  
And suddenly, Evan was on the ground. He didn't remember being pushed, or even landing on the linoleum floor. He was only dimly aware of a dull pain in his right, uncasted wrist, and barely processed the loud gasps emanating from the onlookers around him. Even then, no one came to help him.  
Evan peered up in terror. He could see the rage and anger in Connor's face, but also shock, like he hadn't meant to push him that hard. Evan shrank under one last withering glare, then saw the black combat boots turn and stalk away.

Evan slowly levered himself into a seated position, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm having to put all of his weight through his smarting right wrist. Whispered discussions sprang up around him, and the many furtive glances shot his way drew his attention to the massive scene he'd caused.  
The wide berth the other students were giving him reminded Evan of his thoughts over the summer, lying underneath the tallest tree he had been able to find. _No one is coming to help you. You have to get away on your own._ He quailed under the myriad of stares, and quickly scrambled to his feet, retrieved his bag from where it had fallen, and made his exit.  
_Exit._ It sounded like he was leaving the stage in some theater production. Pretty accurate, actually, considering the drama that had just gone down. _Exit, pursued by endless rumors and shocked glances across the hall._

Evan ate his lunch in a hidden corner of the library that day. 

________________________________________________________________________

**Dear Evan Hansen,  
It turns out, this wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because why would it be?  
I am on speaking terms with one person in this entire school, and that person denies he knows me in most situations, and bolts whenever trouble hits. I really can't blame him. I can't even eat lunch without screwing up and getting attacked.  
I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was a part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean, let's face it: would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?  
Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,  
Me.**

Evan sighed and hit print. If he wasn't fast, he'd miss the bus. And then he would have to walk home, which would make him late for his appointment with Dr. Sherman, and Dr. Sherman would charge his mom anyway, and-  
Breathe. Remember the exercises you learned. Evan took a deep breath, filled his lungs, and held it for five seconds. He pictured all of his worries and anxieties rolled up into a ball inside the breath, and gently blew it out, out of his body, out of his mind.  
It didn't work. The worry was still tumbling around Evan's head, but at least his breathing was steady now, and that was something. It would be incredibly embarrassing to miss your therapy session that was supposed to help with your panic attacks because you had a panic attack.  
The letter! Evan recalled the reason he was in the computer lab in the first place and streaked round to the office next door where the printer was housed. But someone had beaten him to it. 

Connor Murphy stood next to the old printer as it whirred and groaned, looking up the second Evan walked through the door. The two boys stared at each other for three clear seconds, both startled at finding that they were not alone in the building.  
Connor moved away from the printer and a little closer to Evan, who cringed, waiting for another shove and a second round of humiliation. When it did not come, he slowly peeled his eyelids open, to see the other boy standing in front of him just a couple of feet away, pointing in the vague direction of Evan’s arm.  
"So...what happened?"  
"Wha-what? Excuse me?"  
Connor looked at him like he was regretting saying anything in the first place, breaking his stiff posture to tug slightly on the sleeve of his black hoodie. "Your arm. What happened?"  
Evan glanced down at the foreign object coating his left arm. "My arm? Oh, well...I was working over the summer, I was an apprentice park ranger at Ellison Park, y'know? I’m kinda like a tree expert now.” He chuckled nervously, then internally berated himself for trying to repeat the joke that had fallen on such deaf ears earlier that day. “And one morning, I was doing my rounds, and I saw this amazing forty-foot-tall oak tree, and I just thought, _Wow, I bet the park looks really cool from all the way up there._ So I climbed it."  
He mirrored Connor’s action and began to worry the edges of the cast, a nervous habit that had already started to fray the edges.  
"And then I fell. It's kind of funny, really, because I just lay there, for ages, thinking, _Any moment now, someone's gonna come and find me._ I, uh, yeah. _Any moment now._ But they didn't. No one did. So I just had to walk all the way back to the main building by myself with a broken arm. I'm talking too much, sorry."  
Connor laughed nervously. It was the first time Evan had ever heard the boy laugh, and it seemed coarse, like it rarely occurred. "You fell out of a tree? Well, that's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard.”  
Both boys glanced down at the discolored office carpet, neither really knowing what to say. Connor eventually forced out another sentence.  
“You should make up a better story. Say it got broken in a fight or something."  
"Yeah, maybe. I doubt anyone will believe I got into a fight, though."  
"I literally shoved you over in the cafeteria three hours ago. If you say someone beat you up, they will definitely believe you."  
There was an awkward pause at that, both boys again refusing to make eye contact and fidgeting uncomfortably. Evan finally regained the ability to reply.  
"Um...I don't see how that would be any better than telling people I fell out of a tree, though. Getting beaten up is pretty sad too."  
Connor let loose another wry grin at that and caught Evan’s eye for a second, then quickly dropping his gaze to the floor again, his feet shifting anxiously on the worn carpet. and Evan struggled to reconcile this new, nervous Connor with the high school shooter persona he constantly displayed. "No one's signed it."  
Evan glanced down at the plain white cast as if to check whether any names had magically sprung up to prove that he had some friends in this world. Nope. The plaster was still devoid of any markings. "Oh. No. I guess I never got round to asking anyone to sign it." This was a blatant lie, considering how Jared had shot him down earlier when Evan asked if he wanted to sign it, but Connor didn't need to know that.  
"I'll sign it."  
Evan blinked in surprise, before trying to conceal the shock registering on his face. This was most definitely not how he had expected this encounter to go. "Oh. You don't have to."  
"Do you...um...have a Sharpie?"  
Evan found himself slinging his bag off of his back and unzipping the pocket with the marker inside, despite every instinct screaming at him that this was some elaborate scheme to belittle him, and that he had to run whilst he still had the chance to get away.  
“Ow!” The sudden pull on Evan’s arm as Connor picked it up was more surprising than painful, but the exclamation slipped past his lips anyway. Connor’s eyes flashed up to his with concern but, after a second, dropped back to the cast that he was now holding incredibly gently.  
"There." Evan looked down, to see Connor's name stretching up the inside of his cast like the massive letters were trying to reach up and peel themselves off of the white plaster.  
"Oh. Thank you." He accepted the Sharpie back. and zipped his bag closed again.  
"Now we can both pretend that we have friends." Something about that sentence hit home inside Evan. How did Connor know he was friendless? Did he recognize the feeling in Evan? And why would Connor Murphy want to pretend to be friends with Evan Hansen of all people?  
The printer wheezed one last time, finally spitting out one solitary page that Evan knew, somehow, was his letter.  
Connor sighed. "Finally!" The boy moved back to the printer and grabbed the sheet of paper.  
"No, wait, that's-"  
" 'Dear Evan Hansen? Is this yours?"  
"Yes, it's mine, but don't read it!"  
Connor paused at that, and Evan realized that that was the wrong thing to say. What would make the other boy want to read it more? He stood in trepidation as he watched Connor’s eyes scan slowly and deliberately down the page, still warm from the printer.  
" 'Screwing up and getting attacked’? Did you write this for me?”  
"No, I just-"  
"You did, didn't you! You wrote this for me so that I would find it, you knew I was in here! Is this some kind of a sick joke?"  
And bam. Angry Connor was back again, and the short connection between the two of them was gone. There was a deep anger in his eyes now, and frustration, and...hurt? "I swear, I didn't-"  
"Do I look like I'm fucking dumb? You knew I was the only one here." Evan shook his head mutely under the cold stare, his throat closing up as his words abandoned him. "Why did you write it? So I would see it and freak out? So you can tell the whole school how crazy Connor Murphy really is?"  
"It really isn't-"  
"Fuck you, Evan Hansen. Fuck you." He turned and stalked out of the open office door, slamming it so hard behind him that it shook on its hinges.  
Evan was quivering slightly, his breathing frantic at how close he came to being attacked again.  
And then he realized something that made him run out of the office almost immediately.  
Connor still had his letter. 

________________________________________________________________________ 

“Connor! Wait! I, uh, I...just stop!”  
Connor emerged from the main school building into the parking lot and didn’t stop. He kept his head down and tried to block out the cries of protest from behind him. But eventually, he hesitated.  
He wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because Connor really did feel bad about shoving Evan earlier. He hadn’t meant to; the anger had just bubbled over, and he was tired of being called the freak, the mental case, the psychopath. And attacking another student really wouldn’t have helped with that. Maybe it was the shock of hearing the genuine fear in the other boy’s voice, but not directed at him for once. Evan was seriously worried about what would happen if he didn’t retrieve that letter, and his motion halted. The footsteps clattering towards him across the dry tarmac slowed then stopped altogether, and Connor turned to see a breathless and red-faced Evan standing before him.  
“What do you want?”  
“I just really need that letter back.”  
Connor glanced briefly down at his clenched fists. He hadn’t realized how hard he had been gripping the page, and creases had streaked down the now crumpled letter. He let out a bitter laugh, a twisted parody of his laughter from a few minutes ago. _Why did he bother? What was the point of trying not to be horrible, even for a moment?_ “You were making fun of me. What the fuck makes you think I’m going to give it back to you?”  
Evan cringed again. “I wasn’t, I swear.” The boy took in a deep breath and seemed to be bracing himself for something. “It’s...it’s for my therapy appointment in an hour. My therapist thinks that writing positive letters to myself will help. Y’know, ‘Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why’. Except I kind of started having a vent on the page. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find it, I didn’t even know that you were still here in the building. But I really need it, because I don’t have time to go back and print another one or I’ll be late for the appointment. Sorry.”  
Connor looked at him skeptically, then relented. The boy seemed sincere. “Okay. I believe you.” He released the letter from its death grip in his fist and attempted to straighten out the creases. He gave up after a few seconds, and just handed the paper over to a grateful Evan, who folded the sheet up and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans.  
The smaller boy checked his watch. “Oh no, I’ve missed the bus. Right, so I’m gonna need to walk home, but I’ll have missed the bus into town and Mom’s at work, so I’ll have to see if Jared will give me a lift, except he won’t, so I’ll have to walk there but I’ll still be really late, and Dr. Sherman will still charge, and-”  
“Hansen. Stop talking.”  
“Sorry.”  
“The way I see it, you’ve got two options. Run along home, and pray that someone will drive you to your precious appointment.”  
Evan’s face contorted in confusion. “And the second option?”  
Every single one of Connor’s instincts was screaming at him in protest. Why was he letting down his walls for a boy that he’d barely spoken to twice before? He grinned. “Have you ever ditched one of your appointments before?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Okay, first chapter done.  
> I will probably update sometime in the next week depending on how fast I can write the next chapter.  
> I am a writer, I crave validation, so please, hit that kudos button, leave a comment if you have time, bookmark this and come back to it later.  
> Love you all, stay safe, and remember that you are not alone! (You are not alone)(You are not, you are not alooone)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, you lovely people! Chapter Two has arrived!  
> I'll probably try to stick to updating once each week, depending on how busy I am, so look out for the updates.  
> A quick Author's Note:  
> Nobody is perfect, and I've tried to reflect that in this. Evan isn't a smol bean who gets stressed sometimes, he  
> has anxiety and suffers from panic attacks. Connor isn't just an angsty rebel, he is isolated and lashes out, and  
> probably has multiple undiagnosed mental conditions.  
> I've also tried my hardest not to villanize any of the characters here (Well, not yet. I have some plans for later  
> chapters, but nothing is definite).  
> Now that's out of the way, enjoy the new chapter!
> 
> TW: Reference to a past suicide attempt at the start of the second section. But brief. Really brief. Like, blink and you miss it.  
> TW: References to self-harm halfway through the fourth section. Nothing graphic, but it's there.  
> TW: Mentions of drug abuse in the second section. Do you trigger warning that? I don't know.  
> TW: Talk of suicide notes and suicidal thoughts at the very end

A couple of minutes later, and the two boys were standing outside of a battered blue Volvo as Connor fumbled with the keys.  
Evan cleared his throat nervously. “So...is this your car?”  
“Nope, it’s my sister’s.” Connor’s face suddenly clouded, and Evan fought an urge to reassure this boy who was looking at him with such a guarded expression. “I...crashed mine a few months ago. My parents still haven’t let me get a new one. Not that I could afford it anyway, they’d make me pay for it myself, but still...”  
“It’s a nice car,” Evan offered.  
Connor locked eyes with him and forced back a grin. “It’s a pile of crap. You can see that already. There’s always something wrong with it, but it moves, so I guess that’s enough.”  
“Won’t Zoe mind that we’re taking her car?”  
“She’s in jazz band rehearsal, she won’t be out for a couple of hours at least, and anyway, there’s a bus going near our house at that time, so it’s fine. She can just suck it up.”  
“How come you have keys to her car?”  
“Because my dad has keys to this car and I nicked them.”  
Evan took this in, looking away from the stare Connor was giving him, as if he was challenging the smaller boy to object. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”  
A click signified that Connor had finally managed to unlock the car, but instead of climbing inside, he leaned on the slightly rusted roof and grinned at Evan. “You apologize a lot, Hansen, did you know that?”  
“Oh. I guess I do. Sor-” Evan bit his lip to stop himself continuing, whilst Connor burst out laughing.  
“You want to say it again, don’t you? You’re a wreck, Hansen.”  
Evan flushed with embarrassment and sudden hurt, but forced himself to look up, and realized that Connor was still smiling.  
Oh. It was a joke.  
Connor seemed to pick up on his discomfort and added to his statement.  
“But hey, we all are. Some people are just better at hiding it than the rest of us. The whole world is screwed, rotten to the core, but some people still have the strength to pretend it’s fine.”  
Evan met Connor’s grin with a tentative smile of his own. That was the first time that anyone hadn’t tried to reassure him, to tell him that everything was alright, that everything was made of sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. Connor was admitting that he was fucked up, that Evan was fucked up, that the whole goddamn world was fucked up.  
Someone was finally being honest with him. And it felt good.  
“Lucky them.”  
Connor grinned again. It was disorientating to see this boy, who before had only glared at, yelled at, or shoved Evan, smiling and laughing with him like they’d been friends since fourth grade. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than met the eye. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.  
“Get in the car, Hansen.”

____________________________________________________________

Connor had pulled out of the parking lot rather recklessly, taking the turning out onto the main road twice as fast as he needed to. And to be honest, he probably would have continued driving with such little care if he hadn’t noticed how pale Evan’s face was in the passenger seat across from him, or how the smaller boy was gripping onto the edges of his seat and flinching at every bump as if they were about to throw him out of the moving car. Maybe Connor shouldn’t have mentioned that he had crashed his car.  
Honestly, though, his reckless driving was probably the reason that everyone had thought it had been an accident...No, he was not going to think about that day. Not now that things might at long last be looking up.  
He did slash his speed in half after that, still surprised that Evan was even there. He had left the option open for the boy and walked off, with no clue whether he would be followed or not, and trying hard not to care either way. He was still way too pleased when Evan did, though. It meant that someone was willingly spending time with him, and that hadn’t happened in years. 

They drove on for a while, until eventually, the Volvo slowed to a halt, tires crunching on the gravel below. Evan peered out of the window at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where, uh, where are we?”  
With a similarly curious expression, Connor looked through the windscreen to take in the area. “It’s an old orchard I used to go to with my family when I was a kid. I haven’t been here for ages, though, it looks like it’s closed down.  
Connor didn’t see the extent of this until he got out of the car, motioning for Evan to do the same. All of the nearby trees were gnarled and overgrown, and chain-link fencing lined the orchard perimeter, a bleak contrast to his childhood memories. The well-trodden paths that Connor remembered as often busy with families and couples were nowhere to be seen amongst the undergrowth that had sprung up in his absence.  
“Why here? Why, um, why did you come here specifically?”  
Connor thought carefully for a moment, wanting to give a truthful answer and not scare the boy away. “I guess, it’s one of the few places we came as a family that wasn't completely ruined by the fact that we were all there. Also, I thought you might like it here, Tree Boy.”  
Evan spluttered in disbelief, causing Connor to laugh again. “Wha...But...I... Tree Boy? S-seriously?”  
“Yeah, I mean, you clearly love trees, you worked as a park ranger over the summer. Hell, you literally called yourself a fucking tree expert earlier.” Connor chuckled and saw Evan slowly break into a sweet smile and laugh along.  
“Yeah, I guess. They just seem so immovable. Like, no matter what goes on around them, they are still standing through everything. They were here long before us and they will be here for long after. Did you know that there’s a pine tree in California that’s almost five thousand years old?”  
Connor grinned. “No, I didn’t know that. That is pretty cool. And it’s probably better to be interested in plants than to smoke them.” He sighed. “Well, it looks like we can’t get in anyway, so yeah. Sorry for wasting your time, and getting you to skip your appointment and-”  
“There’s a hole in the fence.” Evan cut him off, a sudden excitement in his eyes. “I mean, if, uh, if you really wanted to get in, it shouldn’t be too hard.”  
Connor smirked at him as a way of resisting the urge to gape open-mouthed. “Well well well, Mr. Evan Keep-My-Head-Down-And-Pray-No-One-Notices-Me Hansen, breaking into private property. Welcome to the dark side.” He smiled more openly, then started walking to the gap in the chain-link that Evan had pointed out. “Let’s go, then.” 

Thirty minutes later, both boys were slumped underneath the boughs of a cedar tree that had somehow snuck in amongst all of the apple trees. Getting through the hole in the fence had been more of a squeeze than it had first appeared, but they’d managed it eventually. The two of them had walked for a little, then decided to sit down and watch the sun dwindle down through it’s last few hours above the horizon  
Connor pulled his head up from where it was resting on his bag and hauled his body up onto his elbows so he could turn to the boy next to him in the grass.  
“Evan?”  
“Yeah?”  
"How did you break your arm?”  
Connor could see immediately that it had been a bad idea to ask that question again. Evan’s face was suddenly guarded, and much darker than it had been previously. “I fell out of a tree. I told you that.” The boy’s tone wasn’t harsh at all, but panicked, and Connor realized that Evan wasn’t angry with him for asking, but more worried that he would find out the truth. Because Evan’s answer was clearly not the whole truth. That much was evident from his reaction.  
Connor slumped back onto the grass beneath him and turned back to the open sky above them. He didn’t want to push Evan, who was clearly not ready to say anything else “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”  
Tilting his head to the side to glance at the boy again, Connor noticed the pace at which Evan’s chest was rising and falling, much faster than normal. “Hey, Hansen, are you alright? What’s wrong?”  
Evan’s eyes were screwed shut as he tried to control his breathing. “Yeah, I, uh, I just… Can you just talk about something, please? Anything? Just to distract me.” Connor fought back his surprise, and instantly encountered the mind blank that always occurs when anyone asks you to talk about something random and you can’t think of a thing. “Oh? Um... sure, I guess...well...my mom’s got a new obsession this month, she’s doing all of these online yoga courses. I can tell you, there’s nothing more horrific than coming down at six in the morning to see your mom in tropical yoga pants. I can’t deal with that shit sober. There was this one time, she tried to get me and Zoe to join in, and I just told her to fuck off, because that’s what you do when your mom tries to get you to do stuff, but she kept asking Zoe, trying to persuade her to do it with her, and I just had to yell at her to fuck off and leave Zoe alone.  
“I think that shocked all of them, I don’t really talk to Zoe apart from to yell at her, but I could see that she really didn’t want to do it, y’know? And then I had to deal with my dad yelling at me for yelling at my mom, even though they yell a lot worse at each other when they fight, which they do a lot. So I shut myself in my bedroom and got high, just to piss him off even more.”  
Evan sighed, and Connor looked back at him, and he seemed to be breathing normally now.  
“Dads suck.”  
“Do you not get on with your dad?”  
Evan smiled wanly. “I don’t see him. He moved to Colorado when I was seven, and I haven't seen him in person since. We sometimes email, but we still don't talk much. He’s replaced me, I guess, he's having another kid with my stepmother.”  
Connor sighed. “Dads are shit. I mean, I’m sure that there are some fathers out there who are perfectly good and kind, but our dads-”  
“-Are shit,” Evan finished, and they both laughed. It made sense, Evan thought. His own anxiety hadn’t come from nothing, and neither had Connor’s anger and substance abuse.  
“Were you ever really going to give that letter to your therapist?” Connor asked gently.  
Evan paused for a moment before answering. “No, Dr. Sherman would have said it was far too negative. My mom would have gotten a call recommending more therapy sessions every week. It would probably have been better to turn up with nothing.”  
“So then why did you want it back so badly?”  
Evan hesitated again, debating whether to open up or not. After a few seconds, he decided that he might as well, considering that Connor might be one of the only people who could understand the way he had been feeling and maybe not judge him too badly for it. “Oh...well...I guess I was finally being honest with myself. And I was casting myself so bare onto the page, I guess that felt much too personal to let anyone else keep.”  
Connor nodded slowly. “I get it, I think. Like, you needed somewhere to pour your deepest feelings, and the page isn’t about to judge you.”  
Evan smiled in relief that he had understood. “Yeah, and I think it helped, to acknowledge some stuff that I’d just been ignoring, and hoping would go away. I’ll have to get rid of it before my mom sees it though, she’ll panic if she reads it, she’ll make me go to more therapy sessions, and take more meds.”  
Connor flipped a lighter out of his back pocket. “Burn it? That could work.” He chuckled, clearly joking, but Evan took the idea seriously for a moment.  
A small laugh escaped Evan’s throat at the thought of being so dramatic in the simple disposal of a sheet of paper. Still, there was something strangely poetic in burning away the evidence of his feelings. “Sure, okay, why not.”  
Connor arched an eyebrow in surprise at the other boy actually wanting to do it, but slid the plastic lighter over the flattened grass anyway.  
Evan took the lighter and shifted backward until his back was resting against the trunk of the cedar tree that the two of them were lying beneath. He flicked the catch on the lighter until the flame held, staring at it for a few moments.  
“You okay?” Evan glanced up from the flame to see Connor looking back at him with slight concern.  
“Yeah I’m fine, I just…” Evan extinguished the lighter, then placed it carefully down on the grass. He pulled the letter out of his pocket, gently unfolding it and taking it in his casted hand, and held the lighter underneath it.  
The flames quickly took hold, spreading to the corners of the page and dropping fine flakes of ash onto the grass between Evan’s legs. He sighed and tossed the lighter back to Connor, who caught it deftly in his left hand, grinning back at Evan.  
“Better?”  
Evan smiled back. “Yeah, thanks.”  
Connor moved back until he was resting on the thick tree trunk as well, his shoulder almost touching Evan’s.”Hey, Evan?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You deserve more than just a crappy family friend who pretends he doesn’t know you.”  
Evan shifted slightly, stretching his left arm over towards Connor, showing him the big, bold lettering that the other boy had added there just a couple of hours ago. “Maybe...maybe neither of us are pretending anymore. To, um, to have friends, I mean.”  
Connor smiled at him. “You know what, I don’t think we are pretending anymore.”

______________________________________________________

Evan shut his front door quietly behind him as he crept back into his house. His mom wasn’t working late tonight and was probably in the living room watching television or something.  
“Evan? Is that you, honey?”  
Shit. She’d heard him. Evan froze halfway up the stairs and saw Heidi move around the corner to see him. “Yeah, it’s me.”  
“Honey, Dr. Sherman called me earlier. She told me that you never showed up to your appointment earlier.” Heidi was clearly concerned. What was he going to tell her?  
“Um, no, I missed the bus, and I didn’t know whether you would be back from your shift yet or not.” At least that bit wasn’t a lie. Evan fought to keep his breathing steady, trying some of the breathing exercises Dr. Sherman had given him.  
Breathe in for five, hold for five, breath out for five.  
“You could have called me. You know I’m always just a phone call away.”  
“I didn’t want to disturb you if you were at work.”  
“Where were you, Evan? What have you been doing all evening?”  
In for five, hold for five, out for five.  
Now was the hard bit. Evan couldn’t tell her where he was, he was technically trespassing, and if he told Heidi who he was with, she’d make the same assumptions as everyone else. All of the parents knew about Connor Murphy, frequent smoker, disruptive element, and general bad influence.  
She would never believe otherwise.  
“Um...I was with Jared? Yes, Jared. We got a project in school today, and we were paired up, so I went to his place and we started working on that.” Evan watched Heidi’s face carefully, searching for any sign of disbelief and only relaxing when (after what felt like an age) she finally broke into a smile.  
“Jared? Oh, that’s great honey, I’ve always said Jared was a good friend for you. Well, as long as you were safe…” She trailed off, noticing something about Evan. He pulled his cast closer to his chest, thanking the stars themselves that Connor had written his name on the inside of the cast, and if he clutched his arm to his chest, you could only see the very tips of the letters.  
“Are those...grass stains?”  
Evan looked down, to see small green lines scattered across the backs of his khakis. How had he not noticed those before? “Oh, um, yeah, I...I fell over. Outside Jared’s house. On the grass.”  
Heidi looked confused. “Is there grass outside Jared’s house?”  
“Um, yeah, there’s a little bit just before the road, by the driveway, just a little bit, and I fell over right into it.”  
She still seemed slightly baffled, but let it drop. “Okay, honey. Are you hungry? I made some spaghetti.”  
“Um, no thanks, I ate at Jareds. I’ll probably just go up to bed, have an early night.” The lies were coming easier now, and Evan couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad one.  
Heidi seemed troubled when she looked back at him. “Are you okay, Ev? You’ve only been back at school a day, but you already seemed tired of it. Did anyone sign your cast?”  
“No, I forgot to ask anyone.” Evan was once again thankful that the visible side of his cast was pristinely white and not Connorified.  
Heidi was still trying to connect with her son. “Hey, I printed off a load of these college scholarship applications, I thought maybe we could have a look at them together? We’re gonna need all the help we can get for college.”  
Evan sighed. “Um, yeah, I guess?”  
“I could cancel my shift next Tuesday, and we could look at them then? I mean, when was the last time that we did a Taco Tuesday?”  
“You really don’t have to do that.”  
“No, I want to! I’ve been working too much recently anyway, I feel like I’ve barely seen you!” The kindness and hope in her expression were too much for him to resist, and he felt a pang of sudden guilt at deceiving his mom.  
“Okay, we can have a look at them next Tuesday.” At that point, Evan would have said anything to make her let him go in peace.  
“Goodnight, honey, I love you,” Heidi surrendered.  
“G’night. Love you too.”  
Evan took the stairs two at a time in his haste to get to his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him and collapsing onto his bed. It wasn’t Heidi’s fault, he knew, she did try her best.  
It just always seemed to be not quite enough, not quite in the right way, always a few days too late.  
Always too late.

____________________________________________________

Connor stormed through his own front door a few hours later, not bothering to try and be quiet. Cynthia had ears like a bat and she never failed to hear him come in, even when he was trying to hide it.  
“Where have you been?” Larry called out from over his work laptop, not even giving Connor the courtesy of turning his head away from the screen.  
“Out.”  
“Where’s ‘out’?”  
“Just out. It’s not like you care anyway, you wouldn’t give a shit if I walked in at three in the morning.” Connor glared at the back of his father’s head, no longer trying to hold his anger back, letting all of his pent up fury flow out of him.  
“So he means he was getting high. He took my car and left me stranded at school so he could go and get high in some back alley somewhere.” Zoe felt the need to chip in to the conversation, frustrating Connor even more.  
“Fuck off. Nobody asked you,” he hissed at Zoe, feeling a contorted sense of pleasure at the expression of hurt that sprang up onto her face.  
Larry stood at that, standing square by the chair that he had just risen from. “Don’t you dare talk to your sister like that!”  
“What, so you care about Zoe? My perfect sister? Why don’t you just go ahead and cut me out of your life completely?” Connor shot back. He didn’t care how much pain his words caused any more. This family was too damaged for it to matter much anyway.  
“Connor, where have you been? We were worried about you.” Cynthia intervened, speaking with a calm enough voice, but Connor could see her frustration in her stance. She was tired of this too.  
“You mean, you were worried about me. He-” Connor jabbed a finger in the general direction of his dad. “-couldn’t care less what I was doing.”  
Cynthia moved closer to her son, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Now, you know that’s not true.”  
Connor shook the unwelcome hand off of his shoulder and spat his words with contempt. “He doesn’t care, you all know it! I don’t know why any of you care, seeing as I’m such a hopeless attention-seeking mental case!” He aimed his last words at his father, then turned and stormed up the stairs.  
“Connor, wait!”

Connor ignored his mother’s voice, slamming the door hard and shifting his wardrobe a few inches to the left to block the door, in case anyone decided to follow him and berate him some more. He slipped his shoes off, and slumped down onto his bed, staring at the white ceiling that he remembered painting as a family when he was about ten or so.  
He had sat on his father’s shoulders, and taken a roller to the brown and peeling ceiling, occasionally dripping paint onto both of them. He remembered the radio blaring out some old sixties music and his mother singing along. He remembered the laughter.  
He couldn’t remember the last time they’d all laughed together like that.  
A few minutes later, he heard Zoe come running upstairs and shutting herself in her room, sobs flying from her mouth as she passed Connor’s room in the hallway. Then he heard the shouting from downstairs, which was, presumably, what Zoe had been running from.  
“Larry, he’s your son-”  
“He’s your son too! If you can’t get through to him, what hope do I have?”  
“You’re making it so much worse! If he can see that you don’t care, then-”  
“This is not my fault! Don’t make this out like it’s my fault!”  
Connor rolled over onto his side, pressing a pillow over his head to block out the shouting, his rage simmering down into a pit of guilt at tearing the family apart. It was a miracle that his parents were still together. He thought about Evan; his parents had split up, hadn’t they? His dad was in Colorado with a new woman.  
Connor wondered what it must have been like, to see your father walking away and know that there was nothing you could do to stop it. That your family was shattered forever, never whole again.  
The skin beneath Connor’s bracelets itched, reminding him of the razor concealed in his bookshelf, but he resisted the urge. He’d already cut too many times in the past week, and it would be a very bad idea to let the wounds get infected.  
He distracted himself, thought about Evan’s letter, how it had resonated with him, and how he had reacted by lashing out. 

_This isn't going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because why would it be?_

_I wish that everything was different. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone._

_Would anyone even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_

Connor had had enough of those thoughts himself to know what they meant. He recalled the look on Evan’s face when he’d asked about the letter in the orchard, like he knew the truth and was trying his hardest to hide from it.  
Whether Evan knew it or not, his letter had read like a suicide note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated, they make my day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who hasn't updated in three weeks? Me? Really? Sorry!  
> Writing has been slow recently, so I'm not sure when I'll be updating again. I'm a really annoying writer, I know.  
> Hope you like this chapter, I'm introducing Zoe and Jared.  
> Enjoy!

Evan was just opening his locker the next day when he heard a dull thud from nearby that nearly made him jump out of his skin. He looked around slowly to see Jared leaning against the adjacent locker, apparently oblivious as to how uncool he was looking.  
“So, your mom called mine last night.”  
Evan froze midway through pulling his books out of his locker and Jared noticed his suddenly rigid posture. “Don’t freak out, I really don’t want to have to accompany you to the hospital because you had a brain aneurysm. My parents were out anyway, on their monthly date night where they go and roundly abuse waiters at a posh restaurant. She wanted to know how you and me were getting on with our project.”  
“You and I,” Evan murmured.  
“What?”  
“Oh, well, um, the double pronoun before the verb means that you say ‘you and I’ instead of ‘you and me’.” Jared always spoke like that, but somehow seemed to ace every English quiz with no mention of bad grammar. Come to think of it, he seemed to have one of the highest GPAs in the year, but Evan had never seen him studying.  
Jared snorted slightly. “You are such a nerd. Anyway, it’s funny how we got a project in the first week back, and one that I don’t remember getting, as well. I don’t even remember working on it with you last night.”  
Evan’s brain immediately went into overdrive as he realized how his lies from the previous night could have backfired. His mom would know that he had lied to her about where he was last night, and she would be disappointed and angry, but he had seen her that morning, and she didn’t seem angry, just very rushed. Of course, she could always be waiting to confront him when he got back after school, but surely she would have said something earlier?  
“Hey Hansen, you in there? Hansen?”  
Evan blinked quickly, focusing his attention on more than just the thoughts inside his own head. “Wha...Y-yeah, I’m fine. What did you tell her?”  
“Don’t worry Hansen, I’ve got your back. She thinks you were at mine after school, working on a presentation for English. I’m doing all of the speaking, obviously, because we want the words to actually get spoken, and you’re doing all of the research. Don’t forget to tell my parents just how much fun you’re having with me at school, I need them to pay my car insurance.”  
Sometimes Evan wondered if Jared’s parents really did pay his car insurance for being friends with him and whether it was just an excuse to hang out with Evan. And sometimes Jared could be such an asshole that Evan found it hard to believe that the other boy would associate himself with Evan for anything other than sheer necessity.  
Jared shot him a sarcastic wave, then spun on his heel, and walked off down the corridor, pausing only to yell back over his shoulder. “And don’t try to sit with me at lunch again today, I don’t want to get attacked by the school shooter again.”  
Evan frowned slightly as he watched the retreating boy. _He never laid a finger on you, never even came close. Even him pushing me was a misunderstanding._  
“Hey, Evan? Evan Hansen?”  
Evan turned again to a familiar voice and came face to face with a pretty girl with blond hair. “H-hello. You're Zoe Murphy. You’re Connor’s brother.”  
The girl nodded. “Yes, I am.”  
Evan tried to remember what you’re supposed to say when you properly meet the girl you had a crush on in middle school, even though you never spoke to her, and were relentlessly teased about it by your only friend, and drew a blank. “Me, uh, I’m Evan Hansen. But you knew that already, you were looking for me, I’m so sorry.”  
“Why are you sorry?”  
“Oh, well, because you were looking for me, and then I tried to introduce myself, and it’s so annoying when people do that, and...yeah.”  
He held out a hand, then instantly withdrew it, continuing to stutter at the increasingly baffled Zoe. “Sorry, I’m not very good with new people.”  
She smiled reassuringly, and Evan was reminded about why he once had a crush on her. “That’s okay, I know a lot of people can be like that. I just wanted to apologize for the way my brother treated you yesterday. He’s a total psychopath. I don’t know why he is the way that he is, but I try to help the people he knocks down in his path. Literally in your case.”  
Evan could see that she was sincere in every word, but they flowed slightly too smoothly to be spontaneous, and he surmised that she’d said a very similar thing many times before to other people. “No, it’s okay, it was all, um, all a misunderstanding. I had-”  
Zoe incorrectly predicted what he was about to say. “It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault but his.”  
“No, you don’t understand. He’s already, um, he’s already apologized himself. After school. Last night. Yesterday. After school.”  
Zoe raised her eyebrows in surprise, before looking concerned. “If he’s tried to get you on his side for some reason, then I don’t understand why, but you should know that everyone close to my brother ends up getting chewed up and spat out with the garbage. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get too close.”  
Zoe glanced at someone over Evan’s shoulder, and he turned to see one of Zoe’s friends gesturing at her to come over. She gave him a look of apology and a brief smile.  
“Sorry, I’ve got to go. Just…I’d stay out of Connor’s way if I were you. He leaves as much destruction behind him as a hurricane.”  
Evan couldn’t seem to get his mouth to move and simply stared at Zoe as she walked away from him. He could vaguely remember the little elementary school Zoe and Connor, thick as thieves and joined at the hip, doing everything together. What had happened between the two of them to split them apart, and instill such mistrust of her brother in Zoe?

________________________________________________

Connor Murphy was sitting in the corner of the library, reading. Not many people in the school knew, he was sure, that at the far end of the room, if you squeezed between the last two large shelves, there was a long-forgotten table and a few chairs, out of sight of the rest of the student body.  
Well, most of them.  
Because standing in front of him, with a comically surprised expression, was none other than Evan Hansen, no less than three days after their meeting at the old orchard. They had barely seen each other since; sure, they nodded slightly at each other when they passed in the hallways, even exchanging small smiles and brief hellos if no one else was around, but seeing as they shared no classes, they didn't meet very often.  
There was an unspoken agreement between them to not interact in school. Connor had started this the first time their paths crossed after the Monday evening, with a brief shake of his head to warn Evan off when they first caught eyes. It had nothing to do with him being ashamed of knowing Evan; rather, he knew he had a reputation, and Evan clearly had enough to deal with already without being associated with the infamous Connor Murphy.  
And also...he didn't really know how to be a friend, having been isolated and alone for the majority of his teenage years. It was hard enough getting things wrong in private without the humiliation of making the mistakes in public. And from what he’d seen, it seemed to Connor that Evan felt the same way.  
“Well, if it isn’t Tree Boy himself.” Connor peered over the pages of the paperback he was studying and swung back on the old wooden chair he was sitting in. “What brings you to The Corner?”  
Evan seemed frozen to the spot, right hand worrying at the top of his cast again. Connor could just about see the tops of the letters he had written a few days ago peeking over the edge and grinned very slightly. ”Well, it’s, uh, it’s Thursday, and on Thursdays, I normally eat in the computer lab because I don’t really like eating in the cafeteria, but they’ve closed the computer lab off to repaint the walls or something, which is a good thing because those walls really need repainting, but also not so good because they had to do it on a Thursday, so I couldn’t eat in there, so I came to eat here, but you’re in here, so-”  
“Hansen, are you gonna stand there all day or are you gonna grab a seat and sit down?” Connor smiled a little more noticeably. There was something about Evan’s incessant rambling that was endearing and broke through Connor’s carefully constructed walls.  
Evan promptly clamped his mouth shut and slipped into the only other chair in the small space.”What, um, what are you reading?”  
Connor tilted the book he was holding up so that Evan could see the title.  
“The Fountainhead? I didn’t realize that you were, uh, that you were an Ayn Rand kinda guy.”  
Connor quirked an eyebrow and his eyes hardened, and in an instant, had shut himself off again. “What, so just because I’m a frequent stoner, I can’t read great works of literature?”  
Eyes widening like a startled rabbit, Evan attempted to backtrack. “No, I mean…I didn’t, uh, I wasn’t-”  
Connor held up a hand to stop him again. “Nah, it’s okay, the whole world does it, so why should you be any different? I just...sometimes I just want the world to not take one part of me and say that that’s all there is to me, like I have to be the guy who smokes pot and all of the conforming stereotypes.”  
Evan looked at him with a slightly pained expression. “But I should be different, because I’m your...friend?”  
Connor broke out into a slight grin again. “Yeah. Friends.”  
Evan noticed that the way that Connor smiled in school was different from how he was smiling the afternoon before. The other day, Connor had smiled widely and freely, but here, in school, when he did smile it was smaller, like he was sharing a secret with Evan, but just as real.  
Another slightly awkward silence ensued, neither boy sure of what to say next. Evan chewed on his bottom lip and Connor pulled on the sleeve of his black hoodie, a different one to the hoodie he had been wearing the Monday before, but still the same design.  
After a few moments of quiet, Evan managed to dredge up a new topic of conversation.  
“So, Zoe came to talk to me earlier.”  
Connor perked up at that, but still remained slightly wary. “What did she say?  
“She wanted to apologize. For you pushing me the other day.” A sliver of guilt passed across Connor’s face at that. “I told her that you already had, that it was fine, but she thought that you were trying to get me on your side, or something.”  
The other boy laughed quietly. “Get you on my side? What the hell would I want to do that for?”  
Evan smiled as well. “I have no clue. Except, you kind of have? I saw, on Monday, well, a different person to the one, um, the one that everyone says you are. Even Zoe seems to believe that you are, well, that you are the monster people say you are, but I don’t. Well, not any more.”  
Connor buried his head in the pages of his book, tapping the paperback cover with both index fingers and unable to look Evan in the eye. People didn’t say that sort of thing to him, they just didn’t. They were, for the most part, too scared. “Thanks”  
Evan shifted his chair a little closer to Connor. “What happened with you and Zoe? I can remember, as kids you two were really close.”  
Connor closed the book with a snap and slid it onto the wooden table. He glanced down to his hands in his lap, slowly and methodically picking off the black nail varnish finger by finger. He debated internally whether or not to say anything, but eventually realized that there wasn’t exactly anyone else he could talk to about this stuff. “She started to get other friends, spending more and more time with other people. I remember being really jealous, having to do stuff on my own. It was irrational, I know, but no one else wanted to be friends with me. I was an angry child, and I guess even then, people were a little scared. Then, my parents started to come down on me a lot harder in middle school, especially my dad, and we started fighting a lot. And that made my parents fight a lot more. “ Connor breathed deeply, his voice tired and dull. “I think Zoe blames me for that. For breaking our family apart.”  
Evan frowned, and tentatively placed a reassuring hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not true.”  
Connor smiled sadly at him for a second, then pulled away. “I’m burdening you with all of my crap. You don’t want to listen to this.”  
Evan frowned again but didn’t push it. “Hey, we should exchange numbers. I mean, if things get too much, at least we’d have someone to talk to.”  
Connor hesitated for a second, before agreeing. “Fine.” He leaned forward, taking Evan’s battered old phone and punching a stream of digits into it.  
He gave another small smile, then sat back into his chair and picked up his book again. Evan pulled his lunch out of his bag and started eating quietly.  
They both sat together in the amicable silence for the rest of the lunch break.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would definitely recommend reading The Fountainhead, if you happen to have a week or two on your hands. It's a great novel.  
> Make sure you all stay safe, I need those return readers!  
> Please leave kudos and comments, they always make me smile. I will beg if I have to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tis me, the infrequent updater, back from the yonder tides of Writer's Block and the distant shores of Busy Schedule. I'm not sure when I'll be updating next, but hopefully soon, so stick with me.  
> So I finally managed to get an appointment with a therapist (via Zoom), and it wasn't as bad as I thought. We talked about my writing, and she suggested that I use the characters to explore my anxieties, so here we are.  
> Enjoy!

"You're hanging out with Connor fucking Murphy? Do you have a death wish or something?"  
Evan was lying on his bed, and beginning to regret calling Jared. But then, he didn't really have anyone else to talk to. "Nope, no death wish here, definitely not. Have you got a death wish? Because I certainly haven't. Anyway, he's not all that bad."  
" 'Not all that bad'? He's a fucking psychopath! Remember when he threw that printer at Mrs. G in second grade? He literally attacked you _three days ago_."  
Evan sighed. "He is not a psychopath. At least, _I_ don't think he is. Everyone says he is some sort of monster or something, but I don't see it."  
Evan could practically hear Jared's raised eyebrows down the phone line. "Well, if you don't have a problem with getting maimed, then fine." Jared chuckled a little. "Has he tried to get in your pants yet?"  
Evan almost dropped his phone with shock. "What?! No! He- I- He hasn't- I don't even think he's gay!"  
"Believe what you will, my sources in the rumor mill say otherwise. Apparently, he had a secret boyfriend when his parents sent him away to go to Hanover."  
"Jared, you cannot use the rumor mill as a source of information! Ninety-five percent of that stuff is made up anyway."  
"Fine, but don't come crying to me when he's asking you to suck his dick."  
That left Evan speechless, only able to splutter incomprehensibly. “Wha-? He- I- That’s, that’s ridiculous, Jared!”  
“Evan! Can you come down?” Heidi’s voice floating up the stairs was a welcome distraction. He shot a quick apology down the phone line, grateful for an excuse to end the conversation, and hung up on Jared.  
A few moments later and Evan had trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Heidi was frantically searching for something.  
“Honey, my shift starts in half an hour, and I can’t find my cell phone anywhere. Have you seen it?"  
Evan thought quickly. "I think I saw it by the sink earlier, could it still be there?"  
Heidi moved swiftly over to the other side of the kitchen and sighed with relief. "Oh Evan, thank you so much, sweetie." She turned the phone on and glanced at the time. "Oh shit, I'm late. Okay, so I’m not going to be back until early hours, but it’s a school night so it would be good if you could be in bed by half eleven. Oh, and there's some money on the counter if you want to order in some food. Please make sure you eat _something_ , honey, you know you don't eat enough."  
Evan shifted nervously beneath Heidi 's concerned gaze for a couple of seconds, then she seemed to have decided that he'd got the message.  
"Hang in there, Evan. It's almost the weekend. And we're doing tacos on Tuesday, don't forget that. I'll see you tomorrow."  
She gave him one last smile before grabbing her car keys and hurrying out of the front door. Evan didn't move for a few seconds, but eventually turned, trudged into the living room, and flumped down onto the couch, suddenly exhausted for no apparent reason.  
Evan was set for another uneventful evening. He had no homework to do as his teachers seemed intent on gently easing students back into the rigorous stress of ink, blood, and tears. And he didn't exactly have any friends to spend the evening with. _Unless…_ Evan found himself subconsciously reaching for his off-brand cell phone, unlocking it and scrolling through his contacts.  
The name 'Connor Murphy' seemed to blare out of his phone screen. Was this a good idea? Connor had seemed very distant over the past few days at school. But then again, he had seemed friendly enough again during lunch break earlier that day.  
Evan bit his lip and typed fast, determined not to overthink his words and lose his nerve.

**To Connor Murphy:  
Hey, it's Evan. Just texting so you have my number. Hope your evening's going well.**

Evan then put his phone face down next to him on the couch, promising to himself to not look at it again until he heard the message notification chime. He turned on the old television and flicked through multiple blaring channels in the vain hope of finding something interesting to watch. 

Twenty minutes later, there was still no reply and Evan was regretting every word he had sent in the text to Connor. His willpower to not obsessively look at the message thread had crumbled after the first five minutes, and Evan’s mind was now working methodically through every reason why Connor might not have replied yet. _He could just be busy. Yeah, that's probably what's happened. He's busy. Or he accidentally gave you the wrong number. Or he could have gotten into another fight with his parents and they've taken his phone. Or he saw who it was from and he just couldn't be bothered to reply. Or he's decided that he doesn't want to be friends anymore so there's no point in replying. Or he'd already decided that earlier today, and he gave you a wrong number deliberately._ Then suddenly- 

**Read 5:56 PM**

And the three dots, bringing with them a small spark of hope inside Evan until they disappeared again a few seconds later. That was almost worse. Now he knew Connor had definitely read the message, he just didn't want to reply. Why on earth did he send it in the first place? It was a stupid idea, of course Connor wouldn't want to be friends anymore, nobody did- And then a message popped up on his phone, the chime slicing through his thoughts. Evan scrambled to unlock his phone, quickly reading the text. 

**From Connor Murphy:  
Hey Evan, I'm doing alright, thanks. My dad has a work conference so there's less shouting than normal. How are you holding up?**

Evan grinned slightly at the evidence that his runaway thoughts were completely wrong. He quickly typed a response. 

**To Connor Murphy:  
I'm good. Things are quiet here, my mom's on shift so it's just me in the house, and I only really have one friend and I'm messaging him now. **

Again, Evan immediately regretted his choice of words, even more so when the read receipt popped up with no reply. He tried once again to focus on the nature documentary he had found whilst flipping through the channels earlier, and not on the block of metal and plastic that suddenly felt ten times heavier in his hand. He failed. Evan could barely pay attention to the blaring screen of the television, he was so consumed in his thoughts. Had he replied too fast? Had Connor thought he was desperate and clingy? Had his words ruined his only chance for a new friend?

It was twenty minutes later when Evan’s phone pinged again, but it felt like a number of years to the boy on the couch. He hastily unlocked it and opened up his messages. 

**From Connor Murphy:  
Sorry, I was trying to raid the kitchen without my mom noticing. It’s relatively quiet here too. Perhaps we could meet up? Just an idea, no pressure or anything.**

_Just an idea_? What was that supposed to mean? Was he really offering Evan the choice, or was he only saying it to be polite and he didn’t really want to hang out with Evan? He mentally shook himself. _Dr. Sherman said that you needed to stop overthinking your interactions with other people. Surely texts count as that? He doesn’t mean it in that way._

**To Connor Murphy:  
Thanks for the offer, but I’m not so bored that I’d want to mess up your evening. Another time though? **

**From Connor Murphy:  
Sure.**

**From Connor Murphy:  
Look, I’ve got to go now, my dad’s back and it’s all about to kick off here, but do you want to maybe go to the orchard after school again tomorrow?**

Evan thought for a moment on the proposition. His mom had rescheduled the therapy appointment he had missed on Monday for tomorrow, but he certainly wasn’t desperate to go. It wasn’t as if he was making much progress in those sessions, and hanging out with a friend would surely make a better impact on his mood than an hour in a stark white room with a therapist who couldn’t connect with him. 

**To Connor Murphy:  
Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow.**

___________________________________________________________

Connor was starting to get worried. He and Evan had agreed to meet in the school parking lot at 3:15, but it was almost 3:25 and Evan was still nowhere to be seen. Connor had barely noticed the time passing at first, but eventually had to face up to the fact that the other boy might not be coming. _Maybe,_ said a familiar, sly voice in the back of his mind, _maybe he’s realized that you are just as monstrous and destructive as everyone says you are. Maybe he’s seen the real you and realized that he doesn’t want to know you. No one else does, so why should he be any different?_  
Connor shook his head slightly in a vain attempt to dispel the negative thoughts. He was about to give up hope, get into the blue Volvo beside him and drive off, but just before he did, he spotted a boy in a familiar striped blue shirt race round the corner of the nearby building and pause to scan across the cars, breathing heavily. Connor stood tall and waved, catching Evan’s eye and watching him walk over at a much-reduced pace.  
“Sorry…sorry I’m late.”  
Connor grinned slightly, mostly from relief that Evan hadn’t ditched him, but also from the spectacle that he was making, red-faced and panting from his exertion. “I thought you weren’t coming.”  
“Sorry, I had...had to talk to Jared. He’s covering for me with my mom.” Evan rested his uncasted arm on the hood of the car and attempted to regain his breath. He looked up towards Connor with an expression that looked like a mixture of guilt and shame. “I haven’t told her that I’m hanging out with you. Sorry.”  
Connor smiled a little wider. “You realize that you’ve just apologized four times in the last five sentences?”  
“Oh. Sorry.”  
Resisting the urge to bust a gut from laughing so hard, Connor motioned for the other boy to get into the passenger seat. “Don’t worry about it Hansen, I understand. I know I have a reputation that’s far from shining and I recognize that gossip can spread around a group of adults almost as fast as it can among their kids. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell her.”  
Despite his nonchalant words, Evan noticed the very slightly pained look on Connor’s face and felt a sudden need to amend to his words.  
“Hey, look, it’s, um, it’s not that, I...well, she’s quite protective. I mean...if she knew it was you I was spending all this time with, she’d, um, she’d try and keep you away from me. And I don‘t want her to do that. I...like spending time with you. You understand. You don’t push me to be something I’m not.”  
Connor visibly relaxed at that, sinking back into the worn but comfortable car seat. He smiled briefly at Evan as the Volvo peeled out of the still crowded parking lot. 

The car journey wasn’t silent like their previous journey on Monday. Sure, the conversation was punctuated with awkward pauses, but it was clear that both boys were actively trying to keep it going.  
When they finally arrived in the gravel lay-by, the very first streaks of sunset had started to line the sky, signaling the last few hours of daylight. Clouds on the horizon threatened rain later, but for the most part, the great expanse of blue overhead was clear and bright.  
Connor was the first out of the old Volvo, but he waited for Evan to climb out too before making his way over to the hole in the fencing. He gave an encouraging smile before standing aside and letting Evan clamber through first.  
They both ended up beneath the same cedar tree that they’d sat under four days previously, talking easily together.  
Evan discovered that Connor’s favorite book was Frankenstein by Mary Shelley because he had always been able to empathize with the monster’s loneliness, and that someday, he’d like to read Homer’s Odyssey as he’d always loved the Greek myths.  
Connor found out that Evan was a big fan of movies from the sixties and seventies- “-because that’s when movies were made right.” When Connor laughed at that, Evan seemed slightly indignant, but mostly aware of the ridiculousness of it and amused at himself. “Okay, so I admit, it’s not an interest as highly rated as classic literature, but there were some awesome movies back then. I mean, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, To Kill A Mockingbird, A Clockwork Orange? Seriously?”  
Connor chuckled again and grinned teasingly. “Meh. The book was better.”  
“Which one?”  
“All of them.”  
Evan gasped in faux horror. “How dare you?”  
They both dissolved into laughter again, and for the first time in years, Connor felt truly happy, like he’d finally managed, even for a minute, to escape the dark clutches of the voices constantly in the back of his mind.  
For once, they were just two teenage boys, laughing on a Friday afternoon, with all of the hope that the weekend brings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared is the king of highschool gossip. Change my mind  
> Also, never ask someone born in Donegal, Ireland and raised in Bristol, England to try and use American language. It doesn't work. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it's been a while, how are you all holding up?  
> I know it's been weeks since I updated, but this chapter really was a devil to write.  
> We're going back to the Murphy family, because I'm trying (and probably failing, knowing me) to write a well-rounded narrative.  
> Hope you enjoy it!  
> TW: Frequent drug and alcohol mentions in the first half of the chapter, and a graphic description of self-harm in the middle of the chapter.

Connor’s mood was evident the moment he stepped back into his house, slamming the front door loudly behind him with all of the force that he could muster. Suffice to say, it had been a bad day.  
“Connor? Is that you?”  
Cynthia’s voice floated through the hallway over the faint sounds of the television. Connor wasn’t sure what time it was exactly, but it was late. Not late enough for anyone to have turned in yet, though.  
“Of course it’s me,” Connor sniped in response. “Unless you’ve been handing out keys to random strangers.”  
The low garbled sounds of the television stopped just as Connor reached the stairs, intending to barricade himself in his room for the rest of the night. Or at least until his present high had worn off.  
“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that.” Connor froze as he heard Larry stand up and move to the base of the staircase, staring coldly at his son three steps above him. “Young man, look at me when I’m talking to you!”  
Connor should have kept walking. He should have shut himself away in his bedroom, should have left the conversation until the next morning. It would have been so easy to ignore it, but just beneath the surface, something in him was spoiling for a fight.  
He turned around. “What’s it to you?”  
Larry glared upwards, a barely restrained fury on his face. He was too angry too quickly, Connor remarked suddenly. And his father’s reddened face and the slight slip of his hand on the bannister told him that perhaps the bourbon had come out of the cupboard once again.  
“Young man, you know full well that your curfew has been ten-thirty since you pulled that stunt with your car.”  
“And?”  
“And it’s just gone eleven-thirty.”  
Connor smirked, but with no mirth, only a cold anger. “Oh yeah, thanks, I’d been wondering what the time was.”  
Larry advanced until he was on the step below, nose to nose with Connor. “I will not be disrespected in my own house.”  
Sarcastically, Zoe called out from her usual chair a few meters away. “He’s high again, you can’t blame him if he’s high.”  
Moving slowly, Cynthia came and stood just below her bristling husband on the stairs. She smiled reassuringly and nervously at Connor, but all he saw was another person taking the other side. “Connor, have you been...smoking, again?”  
“No.” Connor’s reply was too sudden, and instantly everyone’s attention was on his slightly unfocused gaze and his slightly slowed movements.  
There was only disappointment and frustration in Cynthia’s gaze, but Larry was all alcohol-driven fury as he pushed past Connor on his way up the stairs.  
“This has gone on long enough!”  
The air of finality in the man’s voice had Connor scrambling up the stairs behind him, any drug-filled haze vanished, and Cynthia and Zoe followed close behind.  
Connor pursued his father into Connor’s own bedroom, where the older man proceeded to relentlessly search the room, seemingly unaware of the chaos he was causing both in the room and his family around him.  
“I will not...have my son...coming in...at all hours...high...any more!” With each pause, another stack of books was toppled, another drawer was strewn across the room, another chair was overturned. Soon the normally reasonably tidy room was near unrecognisable.  
Cynthia’s voice could just be heard above the cacophony of falling objects and shouting. “This is enough! You’ve gone too far, Larry!” She firmly placed a hand on his shoulder, but was thrown off, Larry not seeming to notice in his rampage.  
Zoe was sobbing quietly just outside the doorway, and Connor was just stood there, mute, both watching the destruction unfold.  
He felt none of the usual righteous - and often not-so-righteous - anger, only a sudden unbearable sadness that it had come to this. Sure, there had been frequently long shouting matches, long spells of grounding, but never an invasion such as this. Connor wasn’t worried his father would find anything, no. He wasn’t stupid enough to hide his drugs in his own bedroom, but it wasn’t until someone knocked over a half-empty glass of water, which began to seep into the pages of the fallen books, that he finally began to react.  
“I’m sorry!”  
Zoe’s sob caught halfway up her throat. Even Larry stopped moving.  
“Just stop it! I’m _sorry!_ Please stop! _Please!_ ”  
Larry sighed and slowly drew himself together. “Where are the drugs, Connor?”  
“It’s for your own good,” continued Cynthia in a much more sympathetic and compassionate tone, siding with her husband like she hadn’t been screaming at him ten seconds ago. “We’re trying to help you.”  
“But you’re not, can’t you see? You’re not helping me, and you never will, because you don’t want to. Not really. You can’t bring yourself, not even for a minute, to look past all this bullshit you’re spewing, and think about what is actually good for me instead of easy for you. You’d rather send me off to a boarding school, package me off to fucking rehab, than admit you’ve got a child who might actually need your input and your support.”  
Cynthia finally snapped. “You think this is easy? You think it’s nice for us to have to deal with this person you’re becoming? The world doesn’t revolve around you, Connor, and neither does this household! It’s hard enough to raise two kids, let alone when one of them is- is-” She appeared to be holding back her words “-so selfish, and attention seeking, and destructive. You’re tearing this family apart.”  
Normally Connor would have yelled at her more, but the hurt and emptiness caught up with him, and he couldn’t care less that his feelings were contradictory. He watched Cynthia turn and walk swiftly back downstairs, not saying a word.  
“Look what you’ve done to your mother.” Larry glared at him, leaving him with one last statement before following her. “You’re grounded for the rest of the year.”  
Connor laughed bitterly. As if he would let that stop him from going out. His shell of bravado only lasted for a few seconds though, before cracking, and he collapsed onto his bed, the only part of the room left untouched.  
“Connor? Are...are you alright?” Zoe’s voice. He had forgotten about Zoe, still quivering in the doorway. She had never asked how he was after a fight before. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time she had asked that question under any circumstances.  
But he was drained, and upset, and even though he wasn’t angry at _her_ at all, he knew there was one surefire way to make her go away.  
Connor fixed his sister with his darkest glare, and practically glared at her through the doorway. “Get. Out.”  
Zoe broke, sobbing once again as she fled to her room, leaving Connor with a sudden and very much unwelcome wave of guilt. He lay back on his bed, trying to dispel some of the tension in his mind, but it didn’t stop the growing desire to break something.  
He could just about hear the shouting through the floor, Cynthia yelling at Larry for going too far and Larry retorting that there wasn’t anything else he could have done. Maybe she was right. Connor was destroying the family.  
After a few minutes, the itch on Connor’s wrists grew almost unbearable, and he sat up moving almost on autopilot to the drawer where he kept his razor blades, thankfully untouched by the earlier destruction. He clipped off his bracelets, placing them gently on the desk that had only just been swept clear.  
Connor took a moment to look at the scars on his wrists, running a finger over the newer, purple ones, the paled older ones, the raised ones, the thick ones, and the overlapping ones. It was a sort of ritual for him, to see exactly what he was doing to himself.  
The moment the skin on his right wrist broke, he felt an intense relief, all of the tension flooding out of him. Connor quickly switched hands, slicing deeply into his left arm as well. Blood quickly welled up over both incisions, surface tension keeping it contained for a few seconds before spilling over, running in red streaks down his arms.  
Connor grabbed the box of tissues from where they had fallen on the floor, bunching up three sheets and applying firm pressure to stem the blood flow, bending down to wipe off three drops of red that had fallen to the floor before they could stain the wood.  
A sudden wave of disgust washed through him, that he was resorting to this _again._ He hadn’t cut himself for weeks, not since he’d properly started to get to know Evan, and now, after one fight, he’d fallen right back into old habits.  
Seeing that his wrists had stopped bleeding profusely, Connor clipped his bracelets back into place, wincing slightly when they caught on the open flesh. In a sudden decisive moment, he flung his window open, and threw all of his razor blades out into the shrubbery a story below.  
He was still gazing down out into the cold night air when he heard his door open behind him.  
“Connor? Do you...do you want some help...cleaning up?”  
Connor spun quickly, seeing Zoe stood tentatively in his doorway again. He had not expected her to come back, and spent a few seconds silent, unable to think of something to see.  
Zoe’s face fell at his silence, and she appeared to shrink into herself, turning away. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for bothering you.”  
Two months ago, Connor would have let her walk away. He would have let her leave and be back to bickering with her the next morning. But he had changed, even just a little, and he suddenly thought of things from Zoe’s perspective, remembering every glare he had given her, and every muffled sob he had ever heard through the wall they shared.  
“No. You can...you can stay.”  
Zoe hesitated, hand on the doorway, before turning back around and silently stacking books in the corner. Connor was left standing awkwardly in the quiet, still by his windowsill.  
“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”  
Zoe’s head snapped up, but not with any relief or compassion, more like a cold anger. “Why are you apologizing to people all of a sudden? Do you think that just because you say you’re _sorry,_ it makes everything okay again? I don’t think you even know what you’ve done. You’ve driven everyone away and an apology isn’t going to magically fix everything.”  
Connor was surprised to say the least. Sure, he had been able to see the tension he’d caused in his parent’s relationship, but he’d never once thought about Zoe.  
She continued. “I don’t know who you are. I haven’t seen my older brother since he was eleven, running around shredding leaves, making paper airplanes, and asking me to paint his nails for him. And then he shut me out, didn’t talk to me once for a whole year and was always sullen and moody. I still don’t know why.”  
Connor didn’t respond immediately, but he did crouch down to help Zoe stack up the books on the floor, occasionally wiping water off of a cover or moving a paperback to the windowsill to dry off. “I don’t really know either.”  
Zoe scoffed loudly, and Connor tried to explain. “No, I mean...It’s just...Do you remember when you were in grade 4, and every recess, we’d meet up and we’d play together, you and me, the unbreakable duo?”  
When Zoe nodded, he bit his lip slightly and kept going. “Well, there was one day, and I went to the bench where we always met, and you didn’t come. You didn’t come for the rest of the week, because you were playing with Sofia and her friends.”  
Zoe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Is that seriously what this was all about? Because I played with some other kids when I was _eight?_ ”  
“It was stupid, I know, unbelievable stupid, but I felt so betrayed, that you didn’t even tell me, and I ignored you for months just to spite you. I was a kid, and I didn’t know any better, and I know that’s no excuse, because I was the oldest, and I should have been there for you, and-”  
“Connor, stop.” Zoe frowned, as if in thought. “You should have been there for me, though.”  
“I know. I just blew it up into a massive thing, and it stretched on for years because I couldn’t just start talking to you afterwards. And now…”  
“And now here we are. Connor, you really hurt me. Not just when we were stupid kids, but every time you yelled at me across the breakfast table, every time you decided to storm off to your room instead of talking to me.”  
Zoe suddenly moved a pile of clothes out of the way and plucked up the bloodstained tissues that Connor must have dropped ten minutes ago. “What’s this, did you have, like, a monster nosebleed or something?” Noticing Connor’s panicked expression, she looked closer in confusion. Her eyes zeroed in on the small red smudge just above the bracelet on Connor’s right wrist.  
“Oh shit. Oh. Connor, is this- I mean-”  
Tears suddenly started spilling over the boy’s cheeks as he crumpled into a ball. He seemed so small and vulnerable, reminding Zoe of a child, lost and confused and hurt.  
She tentatively moved over, dropping the tissue and embracing her brother, something she hadn’t done for years. Zoe had never thought he would do something like this, that he was struggling that badly.  
“Connor, how long have you been doing this?”  
“Y-years.”  
Zow sighed out of sheer sadness. “God, what’s happened to us, eh? Why can’t we just go back to being kids? Happy…”  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, holding each other, until eventually, Connor pulled his head up, face lined with the dried tear tracks.  
“I’m sorry. Really.”  
Zoe frowned. “No, this isn’t something you apologise for, it’s not your fault-”  
“No, I mean for ruining everything.”  
“You didn’t ruin everything.”  
Connor raised an eyebrow and Zoe chuckled slightly. “Okay, well you kinda did, but...well I’m not sure I entirely forgive you, but...I think I understand.”  
They smiled at each other sadly, and Zoe looked around the room, still very much a mess. “Look, I know I said I’d help tidy up, but...I really need some sleep.”  
Connor nodded. “That’s fine. I can finish up in here.”  
Frowning again, Zoe stood up. “I really think you should get some help.”  
Connor replied in a hopeless tone of voice. “How?”  
“I don’t know.” She turned and walked away, just hesitating in the doorway. “Goodnight, Connor.”  
“Goodnight, Zoe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you have time, you have no idea how happy it makes me to see your feedback. Any ideas you have for where you want this to go are gratefully received!  
> Also, I'm a very angsty person, so it's definitely going to get worse before it gets better.  
> Sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so I haven't updated in a couple of months. Sorry. I've been so busy, but hopefully now I might have a little more spare time on my hands. I'll hopefully update again in the next couple of days.  
> I literally wrote most of this at 4 in the morning, so please tell me if there are any mistakes; spelling, grammar or otherwise.
> 
> TW: mentions of suicide attempts and suicidal thoughts throughout.

When Evan arrived home from school on Tuesday afternoon, he found the house in its usual state of disarray. He followed the sounds of clattering pans and plates into the kitchen, where Heidi was frantically searching.  
“Honey, have you seen my books? Jamie’s off sick, and they needed me to cover his shift. You don’t mind, do you? You didn’t have anything planned?”  
Evan’s eyes dropped slowly to the stack of scholarship applications on the table, and after a second, Heidi followed his gaze.  
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about those. Um...could we do it next week? I really have to help out as much as I can at the hospital. With all of these budget cuts, we don’t know who it is they’ll be letting loose next. Is that all right?”  
Evan could feel the mixed relief and disappointment flooding through him. He hadn’t really wanted to do those essays, not tonight, but his mom never seemed to have time for him anymore. Sure, she was finally doing something that she loved, but Evan couldn’t remember the last time that they had spent more than an hour together.  
“It’s fine. Really. I...I know that you need to, um take every opportunity.”  
Heidi smiled gratefully. “C’mere.” She pulled Evan into a hug, laughing softly as the boy squirmed.  
It was when Evan finally managed to pull away from her that she saw it.  
The arching black lines spanning the white cast on his arm.  
“Oh, Evan, you didn’t tell me that someone had signed your cast!”  
Evan widened his eyes in panic, and his thoughts raced for a way out of the situation. “Oh, um...yeah, I..I must have just forgotten to mention it.”  
“Can I see?”  
After his reluctant nod, Heidi gently pulled Evan’s arm towards her until she could see the entirety of the giant word.  
“Wow, that’s, that’s big. ’Connor’. I’ve never heard you mention a Connor before honey, who is he?”  
Evan stared at the wooden floor. “Oh, he’s just, um, just a guy from school.”  
Pursing her lips slightly, Heidi frowned, concerned. “He’s...not that Connor Murphy, is he?”  
Evan froze, and his voice came out a few tones higher than usual. “What? No. Why would you ask that?”  
“Oh, it’s nothing really. It’s just, when you’re a nurse, you hear things. Apparently, he was in the hospital in the spring of last year, because he crashed his car into a tree. Some of the nurses thought he'd done it deliberately, you know, as a suicide attempt... I just wouldn’t want that for you, honey, you’re not in a good enough place for those types of influences.” She smiled gently, in relief. "I only want what's best for you."  
Still frozen still, Evan almost stopped breathing. Connor had tried to...kill himself? Blood pounded in his skull, and he completely missed Heidi’s next question.  
“Sorry, what?”  
“I said, who is he, honey?”  
“Oh, he’s a different Connor. A friend. A different...Connor.”  
Heidi smiled. “A friend? Oh, Evan, that’s great!” She glanced at the time on her phone. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Hey, I left some money on the counter, you can order some food in. And I promise, we’ll do those essay questions next week. Don’t go to bed too late, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”  
After a few seconds of not moving, Evan collapsed on the nearby couch. Had Connor really tried to…? Well, that was… Maybe it was just… Was it true?  
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his fumbling fingers dropping a quick message to Connor, asking to meet him at the orchard. It was only a couple of minutes before the reply came through.

**To Connor Murphy:  
Sure, I'll be there in ten.  
See you there. **  


There was no telling how Connor would react, and Evan was already nervous, but it was a question he had to ask.  


____________________________________________

Fifteen minutes later, both boys were once again in the orchard, walking along in the Tuesday evening sunshine. There was less light by the day, but the last few hours of brightness clung to the horizon.  
There had been a storm the night before, and their feet nudged the windfallen apples through the damp grass as they walked. Noticing this, Evan plucked a red-and-green fruit from the ground, and, after giving it a cursory polish on his shirt, took a bite.  
“Bleuch!” The apple was tart and underripe, and Evan spat out the offending chunk of fruit, tossing the remainder into a nearby thicket.  
“Hey, Hansen!” He looked over his shoulder to see Connor stooping over, then toss another apple over towards him. “That one should be better!”  
Evan fumbled with it for a few seconds, the caught it steadily in his one free hand.  
This apple was sweet and crisp when Evan bit into it, with just the smallest bit of juice spilling over and rolling down his chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve.  
"How come you can pick the right ones?"  
"Superpowers." Conner waved his hands in a way that was probably meant to be mysterious, but just came off as goofy, and Evan couldn't resist laughing.  
The other boy looked indignant. "What?"  
"Well, it's a pretty useless superpower."  
"That's what you think. But I get paid a premium by apple farmers to sort the good ones from the bad." Tapping his nose knowingly, Connor looked serious for a second, before breaking out into laughter himself.  
In the unexpected situation, Evan had almost managed to forget why he had come. Almost, but not quite. He suddenly went quiet,  
"Hey, are you okay, Hansen?" Connor looked over at him with concern.  
Evan plunged his hands into his pockets to stop them from fidgeting. "Well, I was talking to my mom earlier, she's a nurse at the hospital in town, and she said something earlier that made me… Well, she talks to the other nurses a lot, she needs to show that she's a team player, there's a lot of budget cuts at the moment, and-"  
"Hansen."  
Evan looked up in surprise, snapped out of his rambling. Connor was smiling slightly, his lips quirked up on the left side.  
"What is it?"  
Evan took a deep breath, before blurting it out.  
"Did you try to kill yourself last spring?"  
Any trace of a smile on Connor's face vanished as it rearranged into a harsher, more guarded expression. Evan knew it well. He'd seen it every time he'd looked in the mirror over the summer.  
"No." Connor's voice was brittle, almost breakable, but with force behind it. He turned on the heel of his black boots and began to stalk away, back towards the car park.  
"You asked how I broke my arm."  
Connor paused. Evan couldn't see his expression, he was still facing away from him, but he wasn't leaving anymore. That was something.  
"You asked me twice. I told you I fell, but you knew it wasn't true, didn't you?"  
Connor's head dropped slightly in an almost imperceivable nod.  
"I didn't fall." There was a pause as Evan tried to gather his thoughts into a coherent sentence. He'd never told anyone this before. No one had any idea.  
"I jumped."  
Connor turned around to face him, and Evan could see tears on his cheeks.  
"You...jumped?"  
"I jumped. Everything just seemed so hopeless. There was nothing worth living for anymore. I climbed as high as I could in the tallest tree I could find. It took me twenty minutes, but eventually I pushed off. I didn't die. I broke my arm, and I just lay on the ground for an age before I realised I'd have to get up. That no one was coming. It just all seemed worse than it had before. Like, life was still terrible, but now I was such a loser that I couldn't even end it properly."  
Evan had been gesticulating almost manically with his right, uncasted hand, filled with despair and desperation, but now his arm fell limp to his chest as all the energy suddenly left him.  
There was silence for a minute, then Connor spoke up, his voice raspy, like his throat was closing up with the effort of speaking.  
"I drove into a tree last spring. I was high, and I probably shouldn't have been driving, but I needed to get out. I'd had a big row with my parents, they were almost daily back then, and I was in a very bad place myself. I just veered off the road, suddenly and deliberately. It was an impulse, I guess. The only way I had left to escape. The car bounced backwards, and rolled down a hill. It flipped twice, and I passed out. I woke up in hospital three days later where they told me I'd been in an accident, and a nearby hiker had heard the crash. They said it was a miracle that I'd survived unscathed, but it felt like a curse."  
Evan tentatively moved closer, before gently putting his right arm around the taller boy. Connor was still for a few minutes, but eventually, he put his arms around Evan, just the two of them holding each other like there was no one else in the world to see them. 

____________________________________________

Evan leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree an hour later, and gazed out at the red glow of the sun as it slowly began it's descent below the horizon.  
"What do you think happens when we die?"  
Connor turned to look at the small boy in the shade behind him and considered the question. "Look at you with the deep, philosophical queries." He chuckled lightly, a sound that Evan couldn't hear enough, proof that there was a side to him that no one else but Evan got to see. "I don't know. I guess that's the whole point, that's why you're asking the question. It's not like anyone can come back and tell us, right?"  
He paused for a moment, thinking. "I guess...when I think of death, it’s just an unending blackness. Peaceful. Where nothing and no one can hurt you.”  
Evan tilted his head to the side, and chewed slightly on his bottom lip. “I’d like to believe that there is something after all this. Like, um...I don’t believe in heaven, but it’d be nice to have _some_ sort of afterlife. It’s scary to think that everything just stops.” Glancing down at the roots he was perched on, Evan gave a wry grin. “I don’t know, come back as a tree or...something.”  
Connor laughed again, truly and openly. “Hey, you could do one of those things where they put your ashes in a pot and grow a tree in it. The essence of Evan Hansen in a sapling.”  
“I don’t know.” Evan frowned slightly. “I mean, it’s a cool idea and all, but I’ve never liked the idea of being burned up. I’d much rather be buried, at least then you’re connected with the earth.”  
“Well, I want to be cremated. Eventually. Have my ashes scattered somewhere nice.” Connor smirked. “Don’t tell my good Christian parents.”  
He collapsed back into the paling October grass. “You know, this is exactly the sort of conversation we should be having high.”  
Evan gasped in faux shock, slightly shakily but with a grin. “What? Connor Murphy, a stoner? Who’d have ever considered that?”  
They both laughed, then lapsed into silence for a few minutes, watching the clouds pass above the treeline, and the last few rays of the sun disappear.  
Connor pulled himself to his feet, brushing fallen leaves off his jeans."It's getting dark, we should probably head back. Soon, we won't be able to see the path. It's faint enough as it is."  
He offered Evan a hand up, which was gratefully accepted. "Do you want a lift back?"  
Evan smiled. "That would be great thanks. You're right. It is getting dark." His face dropped in concern. "If things get bad, you can always message me. Or call me. You know that, right?"  
Connor nodded, his mouth twisted into a thin line. "Thanks, Hansen. And the same goes for you. We've both been alone for too long. It's good to have someone looking out for you."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that chapter was hard going. Yeah, I know the ending kinda sucks. Shut up.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments, it make my day to see what you guys think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a week. Well, I'm definitely not known for my consistency.  
> I hope you guys enjoy it, this was one of the major plot points I've been planning.  
> So much if this is still unplanned though, so please feel free to drop any ideas you have in the comments section.

A few weeks passed. The air grew decisively colder as the calendar shifted through the end of October into early November. Evan and Connor continued to meet up, occasionally at school, but mostly at the orchard. Jared would begrudgingly provide the excuses Evan needed to go out after school and occasionally miss therapy appointments under the guise of varying projects and homeworks.  
If Heidi did notice anything, it was that Evan seemed lighter, happier, even a little less anxious. She put that down to him socializing with Jared. After all, she’d always said that he would be a good friend for Evan.  
Things were shifting in the Murphy household as well. Connor still smoked frequently and came in at all hours, but the house-quaking arguments diminished slightly, and there were times when the family could share a meal without it becoming a warzone, albeit only if they ate in near silence.  
At one time, when Zoe walked into Connor, instead of yelling at his sister for not looking where she was going, he apologized for being in the way, something that shocked the entire household as much as the decline in arguments.  
For both boys, it seemed that things might finally be looking up.  
Until they weren’t.

____________________________________________________

Evan faintly heard the sound of the doorbell float up the stairs, and his mom calling to him from the kitchen.  
"Evan, honey? Can you get the door for me please?"  
"Mom, I don't know who it is! It could be a stranger! I could have to _talk to them!_ " School had drained him enough without the prospect of trying to say the right thing to a person that he didn’t know.  
"Evan, please! I'm cooking! Just open the door, I'll be there in a couple of minutes."  
The doorbell rang again and Evan groaned, dragging himself off of his bed and down the stairs. He took two deep breaths before opening the door.  
A vaguely familiar man stood outside and didn't say a word, just looked at Evan, who was attempting (and failing) to move his mouth.  
"Evan? Who is it?"  
Heidi's question seemed to trigger something in the man, who smiled gently, and with a slight nostalgic tone in his voice. "Evan? Is that you? It's been so long..."  
Footsteps approached the door from behind Evan.  
"Who is it, honey? Do you-" As soon as Heidi looked up from her son to the visitor, she froze, and a sudden fury that Evan had never seen before rose into her expression.  
"Evan, go upstairs." She spoke with a barely controlled rage that made Evan obey without question, scuttling up to his bedroom to listen to the shouting below.  
"Heidi, I-"  
"What the hell do you think gives you the right to show up here? Ten years and not even a letter to me, no child support, no apology of any kind?"  
"Please just-"  
"No! You don't get to talk! _You_ left _us_ , not the other way round. You preferred a cocktail waitress to the woman that you married, and left your son to grow up without a father!" Evan heard Heidi scoff with scorn. "Paul, it took you ten whole years to summon the courage to show up here. There is nothing that you can say anymore. Don't come back again."  
Evan heard the door closing, then a dull thud and a hiss before he heard his mom speak again in a low snarl. "Take your foot out of my door before I call the cops."  
"At least let me speak to Evan!"  
"You left us! There's nothing more for you to say!"  
"He might not feel the same way! At least-" There was a faint rustling of paper. "-take this. I'll be there for three days if he wants to come and talk."  
The door closed fully beneath Evan, who lay frozen on his bed, trying to process what had just happened.  
A few seconds later, Evan heard a knock on his bedroom door and looked around to see his mom standing in the doorway.  
"Hey, honey. Are you okay?"  
Evan tried to nod, but his neck betrayed him and he ended up shaking his head instead. Heidi came and sat next to him on the edge of his bed.  
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry about that. I had no clue that it would be your dad there. Do you need some of your meds?" She glanced towards the little pull box on Evan's desk, and the boy finally managed to move his mouth enough to speak.  
"No, I'm, uh, I'm fine."  
Heidi looked at him skeptically. "Well, if you're sure. Do you want to talk about it?"  
Evan shook his head. "No, it's fine."  
Heidi placed a sheet of paper on the bed, and Evan picked it up, reading the few lines written on it. "Your dad left this. It's the address of the motel he's staying at. He was right, I guess. It is your choice if you want to meet him or not."  
Evan bit his bottom lip. "I, um, is it alright if I go over to Jared's? We've still got that...history project to work on."  
"But honey, I'm just making dinner! And anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go out, considering what just happened"  
"I'll eat at Jared's, I promise, and I’m fine, I...just need to get out of the house."  
"I'll be leaving for my shift in an hour. We do need to talk about this, Evan."  
"Please, mom. We really need to keep up with this project or we'll both get left behind."  
Heidi purses her lips and quickly weighed up the arguments. "Fine. But don't be back too late, and make sure that you do eat something." She left the room, and Evan slipped his phone out of his bag, scrolling quickly through his contacts to "C". 

**To Connor Murphy:  
Hey, it's Evan.  
I could really do with someone to talk to.  
Could we meet at the orchard? **

Evan only had to wait for a matter of seconds before his phone pinged with a reply. 

**From Connor Murphy:  
I'll be there soon. Don't worry. **

He sighed with relief, then slipped downstairs and pulled on his sneakers, calling out a quick goodbye to his mom in the kitchen as he left and slipped out the front door.

______________________________________________________________

It was only a ten minute walk from Evan’s home to the orchard (it was really surprising that Evan had never been there before Connor had shown him), but the walk did nothing to help clear his head. On the contrary, being alone with his thoughts made Evan only more stressed, fidgeting and pulling at the edge of his cast again as he came up with more reasons to just hide in his bedroom and ignore the problem until it went away.  
Evan’s shadow stretched along the gravel in front of him when he finally arrived, drawing his attention to the few hours of sunlight remaining in the day. He bent down and quickly crawled through the hole in the fencing, pulling sharply when his plaster cast snagged on a loose link of metal.  
It was only a few minutes until Evan had staggered his way to the tree he’d sat under with Connor just a few days before. He sighed with relief when he saw the figure already there, a thin coil of smoke stretching up from a hand almost silhouetted in the sunset.  
Connor stood and turned as soon as he heard footsteps behind him, dropping his joint to the floor and grinding it into the ground under a black leather boot. Neither of them seemed to be able to speak for a second, then Connor finally spoke.  
“So...what is it?”  
Evan suddenly realized that in his desperation to reach out to someone, he could have pulled Connor away from something. “I’m...I’m really sorry, I just needed to talk to someone, um, well, talk to someone in person.  
Fully taking in the state of the disheveled boy in front of him, Conner frowned in concern. “Hansen, what’s wrong?”  
Evan swallowed nervously, and shifted on his feet. “It’s my dad. He’s come back.”  
Connor’s eyes widened in shock, and then he swiftly moved closer to gently place a reassuring hand on Evan’s shoulder.  
“Shit. Are you alright?”  
Evan gazed up at him, his dark blue eyes wide with anxiety. “Connor, he...he came to my house. He just walked up the driveway like...well, like he’d never left!”  
Evan’s breathing became frantic as he attempted to drag the air into his lungs. A single tear spilled over his eyelid, and then he was full-on crying as he crumpled inwards.  
Connor caught him before he hit the ground, but met the other boy’s wild eyes that looked at him but didn’t see him.  
“Get away from me!”  
Connor recoiled from him as if he’d been burned, retreating a few feet on instinct, then debating whether that had been a good idea or not.  
Because Evan was now worse, curled up into a fetal ball on the dry grass and shaking, words spilling out between his sobs.  
“Sorry...sorry Connor...I didn’t...mean it...sorry Connor...don’t go...sorry.”  
Connor tentatively moved closer, unsure of what to do but eventually sitting down on the grass beside Evan and slowly reaching out to pull the other boy upright. He gently slid an arm around Evan’s quivering shoulders and cautiously hugged him close, careful not to startle him again.  
They both sat there for a few minutes, the only sounds being Evan’s sobbing and still-frantic breathing and the crickets in the grass around them, drawn out of hiding by the approaching sunset. Evan shifted slightly, turning in towards Connor and crying into his shoulder.  
It took ten minutes for Evan’s breathing and heart rate to return to normal, but Connor patiently waited, holding the other boy until he was calm enough to sit up by himself again.  
When Evan did eventually pull away, he looked down at the ground, shame filling his face. “I’m...I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”  
Connor frowned. “No, you have nothing to be sorry about.”  
“But I was crying, I was weak-”  
“No. You were not weak.” Connor put both hands on Evan’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “Crying does not make you weak. Having a panic attack does not make you weak. It shows that you feel things, that you are a kind, good person. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Most people haven’t gone through as much shit as you have, if they don’t understand, then it’s their problem. But I do. I promise you, I do.”  
Evan smiled, the smallest, tiniest curl of the lips possible, but it was there. “Thank you,” he whispered. He glanced down, and saw the state of Connor’s hoodie, the left shoulder coated in tears and mucus.  
"Oh no, Connor, your hoodie! Oh, I’m sorry!”  
Connor looked down and laughed. “Hansen, it’s fine, it will wash out. That’s not the important thing here, though.”  
Evan chewed on his bottom lip slightly, his anxiety trickling back in. “He left me an address, this motel he’s staying in just out of town. He wants me to go and see him there. I don’t know what to do.”  
Without even realizing it, Connor began to repeat some of the most common lines from all of the therapy sessions that his parents had forced him to take, until the stony, silent responses and the drain to the family’s finances had led to his father canceling them.“Well, how do you feel about this?”  
“I...I really don’t know. Please, Connor, I need your advice.”  
Frowning slightly, Connor tried to be sympathetic. It wasn’t a strength of his, but he tried. “Hansen, you need to understand that I can’t make this decision for you. No one but you can know if you are ready for this. But...I wouldn’t go for it.”  
Evan looked up at him in shock. “What?”  
“You told me, you said it yourself, he hasn’t come to see you in person since he walked out, and you barely ever talk at all. And now he suddenly comes back, and tries to pretend that nothing happened? What does he want?”  
Hurt and even anger entered Evan’s expression. “You can’t say that he wants something! You don’t know him!”  
“And neither do you!”  
The shock of both boys was evident in the weighted pause that followed. And then they both tried to speak at the exact same time.  
“Hansen, I’m sor-”  
“You know what, just-”  
Another pause, but more awkward, and yet somehow still strained.  
Evan pushed up off of the ground. “I think I’m going to go home now.”  
Connor reached out an arm as if to try and pull him back, but withdrew it just as quickly, folding his arms into his chest. “I can give you a lift back if you want, I took Zoe’s car again.”  
“It’s fine, thank you, I can walk.” Evan’s clipped tone softened as he sighed wearily. “Thanks for coming out and...helping me. I’m sorry that I messed up your evening.”  
Connor paused, then smiled sadly. “Why don’t you understand? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

But Evan didn’t hear. He was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying, you're crying.  
> Okay, that was hard to write. But I hoped you guys enjoyed it. I don't know when I'll update next, but watch this space.  
> Please leave kudos and comments, they make my day.  
> Stay safe, I love you all!


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